I deleted my Twitter account because I thought I was writing to nobody in particular. I like the idea of constraining a portion of my something to say to 140 spaces. I kept the Twitter dialog box call Safari 140 just to learn to keep things brief and still try to make sense with my efforts to communicate. That's the problem I had with Twitter, it may have everything to do with my attitude toward it, but the tweets I read from others were like letters to Santa Claus.
Today I have an appointment at the VA Hospital to see about getting a cataract operation performed so I can see once again out of my right eye. I play guessing games about how to navigate hoping the present doesn't intervene. Right now, I figure what eyesight I got left will last longer than my memory does, but what if I live?
There os no special reason to want to continue to live. It would certainly disappoint my detractors if I keep living. "I'll be glad when you're dead, you rascal you." It would be a great convenience for some that I would die and take my memory of what happened between us with me.
Like the neo-conservative, woman-hating, nigger-hating, queer-baiting seventy year old man I went to high school with. He's as queer as a three-dollar bill and knows I know his secret. He truly wants me dead. He might just murder me to shut me up. That might be a form of suicide. Killing what he sees of himself in me. I have blood kin that feels the same way.
One man whose palm I read and guessed that he had murdered somebody wants me dead. Palm-reading can be very dangerous for the reader. I revealed events I didn't realize were secrets until I looked up from their palm and saw the expression on their face.
It's not a one-way street. Others who have known some embarrassing truth about me have conveniently died too, and conveniently took their version of truth of my bad side with them. Why would the world not profit from my immediate death? Because nobody knows any more than what they project of themselves upon the other, and they make that up in some desperate need to be different from the other.
I do not attempt to tell the God's own truth here because I don't know what the truth is or hardly ever. I try to capture the drifting thoughts that randomly appear in my imagination for reasons I may not understand. I don't know if the content I capture with these words is true or false. The Comments settings are turned off to prevent me from having to defend what amounts to little more than fanciful, sometime crude speculation. Great moments in our lives never return.
